


until the morning breaks

by unraelated



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimiclaude Wild Weekend (Fire Emblem), Husbands, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Sleepy Sex, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26684200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unraelated/pseuds/unraelated
Summary: Claude wakes up in the middle of the night and finds Dimitri having a pleasant dream next to him.For Dimiclaude Wild Weekend day 2
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 178
Collections: Dimiclaude Wild Weekend





	until the morning breaks

Claude wakes up.

At first, he doesn’t know what woke him. It’s clearly the middle of the night, or early enough in the morning that it might as well be, and as he wakes he feels the familiar warm weight of his husband behind him.

For once, it isn’t too cold in the Faerghus winter, and Claude is comfortable underneath the light blanket and the heaviness of Dimitri’s arm over him. He blinks another few times, clearing his mind, his eyes furtively checking the bedroom for any telltale shadows of any would-be assassins. Once he’s sure that there’s no one, he assumes that it must have been a dream that woke him.

Then, he feels the true culprit: a familiar warmth digging into the back of his thigh.

From the pattern of his breathing, Dimitri must still be asleep. Usually, his dreams are not kind to him. Claude has woken up more times than he can count to Dimitri’s strangled screams, but they’ve been getting better as of late, and now… well.

This is somewhat unprecedented, but not unwelcome. Claude isn’t sure what to do about it at first - Dimitri is still asleep after all, but they haven’t had sex in a few days and he wonders if it’s on Dimitri’s mind.

Slowly, Claude shifts in bed and feels the bulk of Dimitri’s cock against the swell of his ass. Dimitri doesn’t wake, but stirs slightly and Claude finds his half-asleep mind perked further into wakefulness at Dimitri’s instinctive drag across the back of his thigh.

It takes him a moment to decide on a course of action.

Slowly, so as not to wake Dimitri, Claude reaches an arm behind him, sliding his hand down Dimitri’s waist and hip. He takes a moment to admire the curve of him, the slender bone that makes up the edge of his pelvis, before his fingers twitch lower.

Dimitri’s cock isn’t at full hardness yet, but his slumbering interest is more than enough for Claude to work with. He reaches to cup him through his pants, his fingers slowly encasing the heated flesh, and feels as Dimitri’s interest catches hold.

His husband makes a soft sound, barely a grunt, and slides forward again, pressing himself further into Claude’s palm. He feels Dimitri stir and a low feeling curls in his gut at the hot breath of exhalation that rushes past his throat.

“Mm… Claude….?” he finally hears, slow and still muzzled with sleep. 

“Shh,” Claude hushes, his fingers flexing into Dimitri’s impressive girth, feeling as it firms in response, “I’ve got you. You’re sleeping.”

“What?” Dimitri asks, confused, his voice clearing as he starts to wake up as well. Claude smiles, his fingers delicately working into him.

“You’re having a dream.” He doesn’t quite know why he’s saying this, keeping this kind of charade going, but he likes Dimitri like this: still quiet, soft out of a dream - but a good kind of dream, the kind that Dimitri rarely has. He wants to give that to Dimitri somehow, the sweet sort of haze in his imagination that he has sometimes about Dimitri when the other man isn’t there with him.

“Mm,” Dimitri starts, readjusting on his side, chasing Claude’s warmth, “I think I’d rather be awake.”

“But it’s the middle of the night!” Claude says breathily, turning to look over his shoulder at Dimitri’s familiar shape, haloed in the starlight behind him.

“Claude in my dreams isn’t as argumentative,” Dimitri asserts warmly. Claude hasn’t taken his hand off of Dimitri’s cock behind him yet and Dimitri uses this as an excuse to hitch his leg over Claude’s hip, to use his heel to drag Claude closer against him, where he can rub the head of his dick against Claude’s clothed ass.

All pretence of their talk rushes out of Claude’s mind at the feeling and he nods quickly, pulling his hand away for a quick moment, just long enough to grasp at his thin linen sleeping pants and shove them down around his knees. Dimitri’s stranglehold around him doesn’t give him much more maneuverability than that, he can’t kick off his pants or anything quite yet, but this is enough.

Dimitri slots his hand between them to do the same, only pulling his pants far enough to release his trapped cock, and at the first brush of skin on skin, Claude breathes out sharply, the familiar heated feeling enough to make him forget about everything else.

Except - well, Dimitri has him in a big, sleepy vice and Claude peers up furtively for their bedside table, where they keep the sorts of oils that they usually use for this sort of thing. He squeaks - a sound that he’ll vehemently deny making later - and tips his head toward the edge of their bed. It’s a question, a silent request, and Dimitri huffs his hot breath against his cheek in response.

“Don’t need it,” he mutters, his hand pushing between them, sliding down the cleft of Claude’s ass and lower, dragging his thumb along sensitive skin. For a harrowing moment, Claude thinks that Dimitri will press _in_ , but he doesn’t - instead, he eases down even further until his fingers wriggle just behind Claude’s balls, in the tight, warm space between his thighs.

“Like this.”

It takes him a moment to get the idea, but once he does, Claude is entirely on board. He leans back, spreading his legs as much as he can in the confines of his pants and feels as Dimitri eases his cock between his thighs.

“Yeah,” Claude breathes, closing his legs around Dimitri. It’s tight, there’s too much friction, but he reaches a hand down between his legs to fondle with Dimitri’s cockhead and slick his fingers in the wetness there.

With that smothered between them, it’s easier to let Dimitri rock into him, his cock nudging up comfortably against him.

“What,” he tries to ask and breathes in shakily, swallowing hard before trying again, “what were you dreaming about? Where I wasn’t being _argumentative_.”

Dimitri laughs softly, the sound vibrating down through the knob of spine at the juncture of Claude’s shoulders.

“All the good dreams are about you.”

“Yeah?”

That makes him smile. He likes the idea of being the one on Dimitri’s mind when he gets like this, sleepy and quiet in the early hours of the morning. He likes that all of Dimitri’s pleasant dreams are about him and he likes thinking about it here, with Dimitri’s cock wet between his thighs and Dimitri pressing sloppy kisses against the back of his neck.

“...the last time you came home,” Dimitri muzzles against him, his hips surging rhythmically. Claude feels the press of hipbones against his ass. “You were so radiant. I wanted to take you off of your wyvern and have you out there in the courtyard. I was dreaming-“ he cuts himself off for a moment with another quick thrust between Claude’s sensitive thighs, “-dreaming about doing just that.”

Claude can’t help but to smile, and arches his body when he feels Dimitri’s hand slide over his waist and down further, toward his cock. Dimitri’s hands are thick, heavy with callouses from his lancework and absolutely _perfect_ on him, stroking over sensitive flesh and enticing Claude into full hardness.

It’s sweet, just like that. Claude still feels only half-awake, and Dimitri stirs him into an agreeable haze of pleasure as the two of them find a delicate rhythm together. He wants to say more - to tease Dimitri about his fantasy perhaps, or to ask him more about his dreams - but he doesn’t want to ruin this perfect thread of a moment that’s just for them. No attendants will bother them, no diplomats or soldiers, no worry about being caught. Just this.

Just Dimitri, taking him the way he’s learned how, handling him in that perfect way that Claude needs, with his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock as he thrusts more insistently between his legs. Just Claude, shifting his hips backward as much as he can to meet Dimitri’s haphazard thrusts, and then forward, to feel the warm stroke of his fingers.

He gasps out something that might be Dimitri’s name and reaches to throw off the sheet above them so he doesn’t make a mess over it and Dimitri’s leg tightens around him, pulling him back further, holding him _there_ , still, crushed into Dimitri’s hips.

Dimitri lets out a stuttered sound behind him and Claude can feel him adding to the wetness between his thighs as he comes, his hips surging against him as he forcibly holds him still. Dimitri’s teeth bury into Claude’s shoulder - not biting down, but tense, as if holding back the sounds he would otherwise be making.

“Dimitri,” Claude finds himself whining, rubbing his thighs together around Dimitri’s softening cock, feeling as the spend of him dribbles down the muscle of his leg and onto the sheets below them.

“I’ve got you,” Dimitri promises, his voice rough as he resumes his work, tugging at Claude’s cock, covering him in his body. It's - too much, feeling the heat of him, the indescribable warmth that keeps him sane on the frigid Faerghus nights, and Dimitri’s loyal, trustworthy fingers that are _so_ clever and _so_ perfect on him.

Claude has no qualms about making his pleasure known. Dimitri is always quiet, with grunts and gasping breaths, but Claude finds a great joy in being _heard_ , in showing Dimitri that _this_ is what he's doing to him.

He does that now, crying out as his body instinctively arches up, pulling away - but Dimitri doesn’t let him. Dimitri holds him firm against him as Claude comes with a sobbing breath, his toes curling in the bedsheets, pleasure tingling through every inch of him.

Dimitri keeps him steady through the end of it, pressing heated kisses to his throat, his shoulder, anywhere his mouth can reach. Claude adores him for it, and when he goes lax again in Dimitri’s arms, he loathes the idea of pulling away, even to grab a towel to clean up.

They lay like that for awhile, quiet and still in the wake of their lovemaking, until his own spend grows sticky against his chest. Claude shifts uncomfortably after a moment and tries to extricate himself from Dimitri’s arms and leg thrown over him, only to find that his lover’s limbs are heavy around him.

“...Dimitri?” he whispers, and hears nothing behind him but Dimitri’s soft breathing.

Claude is tempted to laugh, but doesn’t want to wake his husband who has, it seems, fallen back asleep behind him.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to slowly remove himself from Dimitri’s iron grip long enough to reach for one of the towels he likes to keep near the bedside and quickly wipe himself down. They’ll both need to bathe in the morning, but he doesn’t have the heart to make Dimitri get back up and do it tonight - not when his dreams are so sweet, not when he looks this peaceful.

So Claude sighs, laying the towel down where he can, and turns to face his lover, tucking himself into Dimitri’s warm furnace of a chest and easing himself back into a pleasant doze.

Dimitri’s arms close around him again, unconsciously cocooning him into a familiar embrace. Claude’s mouth quirks into a smile at the thought of Dimitri reaching for him even in his sleep, and he allows himself to be held until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to see more of my work, check me out [@unraelated](https://twitter.com/unraelated). :)


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